


this spaceship has a passenger seat

by lotts (LottieAnna)



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Podfic & Podficced Works, Podfic Length: 30-45 Minutes, Secret Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-05 12:22:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14044191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LottieAnna/pseuds/lotts
Summary: “Hey, I asked you to marry me last night,” Mat says.“Yeah, that happened,” Tito says, his eyes already falling shut. “I said yes.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> IF YOU FOUND THIS THROUGH GOOGLING, KNOW ANYONE MENTIONED IN THIS STORY PERSONALLY, OR ARE MENTIONED YOURSELF: please, please click away. This is a work of fiction and nothing written in this story is true. Any accurate information used in this story is publicly available information about public figures, the rest is made up, 100%.
> 
> Title from [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MXnC04foULQ). Inspired by the fact that these two look very good in tuxedos and I love love.

(Firstly, this is all Mat’s fault, because it usually is.

It’s at least a little bit Tito’s fault too, because no one ends up in this situation without making some very dumb choices along the way, but the idea had started with Mat, because Mat is, above all, a ridiculous person who leaps feet-first into every decision he makes.

Honestly, Tito’s got no clue how anyone thinks Mat is anything less than 100% disaster. Breakout rookie, sure, obscenely talented, definitely, but, like, smooth? Put-together? Competent? Those are not words that can, in good conscience, be used to describe Mat Barzal’s personality. Maybe he has his moments, but, like. He’s a mess.

Maybe Tito’s just more in-the-know about the inner workings of Mat’s brain than others are. Most people have seen Barzy do some truly absurd things on the ice, but Tito’s one of the select few who’s had to hold him back from doing a drunk handstand in the heart of Midtown, because he’d gotten five points in one game and that’s apparently his celebration of choice.

Mat’s impulsive, is what Tito’s trying to say. He’s also kind of unstoppable once he gets the ball rolling.

So, any crazy ideas that lead to crazy outcomes originate with Mat. Tito’s only real options are to go along with it or to try and stop it, and, well.

Maybe Tito’s a little impulsive too.)

 

 

_ jan. 26, 2018 _

It’s not completely illogical, is the thing; weddings are, like, the beginning of something.

Not usually the beginning of a whole-ass relationship. Usually it’s the beginning of a life together, one that two people have, like, planned, but when Tito points this out to Mat, the response he gets is a drunken “If it’s good enough for Kelly Ripa, it’s good enough for us.”

“What are you talking about?” Tito asks.

“Kelly and Mark got married in Vegas,” Mat says. “And they’re the perfect family.”

“But they were—” Tito starts, but then he shakes his head, because he’s way too drunk and uninformed about the details of Kelly Ripa’s relationship to argue this.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Mat says. “We’re right here, we can just, like, do this.”

Mat’s probably drunker than Tito, but he’s a very convincing drunk. This is bad news for Tito, who is a very convincible drunk.

Still, there are some reasons they can’t just, like, do this. “You can’t marry someone you’ve never even kissed.”

“I mean,” Mat says, but he doesn’t continue that thought, because—well, he does continue it, in a sense, but he stops speaking, so Tito’s left to imagine how that sentence was going to end. It probably would’ve been something like,  _ if that’s your holdup, there’s a pretty easy workaround,  _ or  _ we can take care of that right now, if you want,  _ but the words aren’t really necessary to convey the thought.

Mat kisses him, is the point.

It’s a very good kiss. That’s true in some objective sense, maybe, but it’s definitely true in the subjective sense. Tito’s spent a lot of time thinking about kissing Mat, and wanting to kiss Mat, and almost-kissing Mat, so the expectations for this moment are high, but the reality of kissing Mat definitely lives up to the hype. He could go on about why—about the fact that Mat’s lips are soft and his mouth is warm and his hands fit so well on Tito’s waist—but really, it’s mostly because he can tell Mat really wants to kiss him.

That’s the important thing here.

“I hope that was okay,” Mat says, pulling away, but he sounds about as breathless as Tito feels.  

Tito’s fingers float up to his mouth at the same time Mat’s do, and they both kind of giggle.

“Yes,” Tito says, still grinning.

“Yes, that was okay?”

“Yes to all of it.”

Mat’s smile widens. “I really want to get married,” he says. “I really want to marry  _ you.” _

“I know,” Tito says, and he means it genuinely, but it comes out cocky enough that it gets a surprised laugh out of Mat.

“You’re out of this world,” Mat says, and Tito just shrugs, pleased with himself, then grabs Mat’s hand and leads them into the chapel.

 

Tito wakes up the next morning with a few regrets.

Like, drinking as much as he did. His head really hurts, and his neck is sore from having slept in a strange position. Plus, his whole arm is asleep, because fucking Mat has been lying on top of it for probably seven hours.

He also regrets not changing before going to bed, because the waistband of his pants is digging into his skin kind of painfully, and his shirt is definitely destroyed. At least he’d managed to get his jacket off, which is more than can be said for Mat, but then again, Mat’s undressed from the waist down, so he’s at least more comfortable in that regard.

There are a few good things he did last night, though.

For example, a quick glance at the nightstand reveals that they’d gone through three bottles of Gatorade and probably multiple glasses of water, which explains why Tito’s probably less hungover than he would be otherwise, and also why he really needs to take a piss. That good decision was probably Mat’s—he’s good at remembering to hydrate, no matter what state he’s in—but still. Tito’s not as much of a mess as he should be, is the point.

Also, he and Mat got married last night, which doesn’t really feel like a mistake.

Tito’s not an idiot. He knows it should feel like a mistake, because he’s really into Mat, and they’re very much not dating—  

They did kiss last night, though.

That wasn’t a mistake.

He’s definitely too hungover to really think things through.

“Move,” Tito groans, trying to yank his arm out from under Mat, which is proving to be very difficult, because Mat is heavy. “I can’t feel my fingers.”

Mat rolls over sleepily. “What time is it?” he asks, not sounding even remotely awake.

“Early,” Tito says, throwing his feet over the side of the bed as he unbuttons his shirt. “Go back to sleep.”

“Mmf,” Mat says.

Tito takes that to be agreement, so he finishes undressing and makes his way to the bathroom, fully expecting Mat to be sound asleep when he returns, except he walks back into the bedroom to find Mat sitting up, scrolling through his phone, his jacket on the floor and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, a few buttons undone.

“We don’t have to be up now, right?” Tito asks as he climbs back under the covers. He hopes not; he was very much looking forward to getting more sleep.

“Nah, we have a few hours,” Mat says. “Hey, I asked you to marry me last night.”

“Yeah, that happened,” Tito says, his eyes already falling shut. “I said yes.”

“No, yeah, I know,” Mat says. “Just wanted to make sure I didn’t, like, dream it.”

“You have lots of dreams about marrying me, Barzy?” Tito mumbles, his back to Mat. He’s feeling brave, or maybe exhausted. One of the two. Possibly both.

“I mean,” Mat says, and then he hesitates for a second. “I haven’t…  _ not  _ dreamed about marrying you.”

Tito grins at that, but then he realizes Mat can’t see it, so he turns over to show him. This doesn’t feel like the kind of smile he should keep to himself.

Mat looks nervous, is the first thing Tito notices. That’s not really out of the ordinary; Mat’s nervous plenty. They’re hockey players, and high stakes hockey would make anyone nervous. Mat’s really good at being nervous, too, turns those nerves into plays and points more often than not, but that’s always hockey-nervous, not people-nervous.

Tito’s never seen Mat people-nervous before.

He’s certainly never seen him Tito-nervous.

“C’mere,” Tito says, and it’s definitely bravery, not exhaustion, that makes him put a hand over Mat’s and nod a little, offering.

Mat slides down until he’s resting on his side, one hand supporting his head as the other gently tangles their fingers together. “You’re okay with this?”

Tito nods, then presses a gentle kiss to Mat’s knuckle. “Weirdly enough, yeah.”

“We probably shouldn’t have done that,” Mat says.

“Probably,” Tito says. “But we can’t go back in time, so.”

“So,” Mat echoes, and he looks at Tito for a beat, like he’s waiting for something.

Here’s the thing that Tito’s always liked best about Mat: he’s an honest guy. He doesn’t pretend to be cooler than he is, doesn’t look down on people for getting too excited, doesn’t act like he’s too good for anything or anyone, even though people sometimes treat him like he is.

Tito knows, logically, that no one is too good for anyone, and that means that Mat isn’t too good for him.

He still sometimes feels like it, though.

But the thing is, it’s not because Mat’s too good-looking, or because he’s too good at hockey, or any of the reasons people who aren’t Tito have for thinking Mat’s too good for them. It’s just—it’s hard to not think someone’s too good for you when you feel really lucky to be able to count them as one of your favorite people in the world.

And Tito gets that, with Mat, so occasionally, it’s hard for Tito to feel like he really deserves that.

Like. Mat is complicated and simple at the same time, honest and infinite, superhuman and substantive. Tito’s closer to figuring Mat out than he ever thought he’d be, and Mat’s a harder puzzle than Tito could have ever imagined. Accepting the unsolvability is the most important step.

What Tito can usually figure out is what he wants, and how Mat can fit into that, and right now, that’s something he knows for sure.

“Guess we’re husbands now,” Tito says, smiling a little bit, and then, before he can second guess himself, leans in and kisses him.

Tito’s hungover brain is only able to focus on small things right now, so that’s how the kiss feels, like a collection of beautiful details. Mat’s lips are a little chapped. He really likes to have his hands on Tito’s face. His fingers are hot even though his toes are kind of cold. His spine straightens as soon as their lips meet, and he doesn’t go tense, exactly, but there’s an alertness in his muscles that’s focused on Tito.

Suddenly, Tito’s feeling much more awake.

Mat kisses slow and firm and sure, which is a very Mat way to kiss; he never picks up the pace, just squeezes Tito tighter as things get more intense. He’s a very neat kisser, in a lot of ways, and Tito’s kind of sloppy by comparison, losing track of what his mouth is doing so he can adjust his grip, forgetting about the hand tangled in Mat’s hair in favor of the one resting on his chest. There’s a laziness that Tito’s craving, which Mat clearly isn’t used to, but he drags his heels a little so Tito can keep up, drawing out the soft in-betweens as they switch positions.

Tito ends up on top, Mat splayed out perfectly under him, and when he drops a knee between his legs and feels Mat hard against his thigh, he shivers.

Fuck hangovers, fuck Vegas, fuck weddings and fuck everything else—there’s one clear, simple fact in this moment, and it’s want.

Mat groans, his hips bucking up a little, and Tito closes his eyes so he can hear it better, committing the feeling of this moment to memory.

 

They agree to not tell their teammates, at first. About any of it.

“Just—for the start,” Tito says. “While we’re figuring this out.”

“Yeah, for sure,” Mat says.

“We can tell them when we’re—” Tito starts, but then he frowns. He’s not sure what word should go at the end of that sentence.  _ Sure  _ implies uncertainty, and  _ serious  _ is kind of a weird word to use when you’re married.

“Settled,” Mat suggests.

“Yes,” Tito says. “Settled.”

Mat grins, pleased. “Cool.” he says. “So, no kissing unless we’re in private?”

“Yep,” Tito says. “So we should probably get it all out of our system before breakfast.”

Mat’s smile turns devious. “Sounds like a plan.”

 

They end up being late for breakfast.

It’s another thing Tito doesn’t regret.

 

“Ebs guessed,” Mat says, as he walks Tito to his car after they land in New York.

“Guessed what?”

“That we’re—y’know.”  

“Together?” Tito asks.

“Yeah,” Mat says. “I told him we were married.”

“What?” Tito says. “Why?”

“I mean, I knew he wouldn’t believe me?” Mat says, shrugging. “It worked.”

Tito blinks at him. “Hiding in plain sight.”

“Yep.”

“That’s… kinda genius.”

“I have my moments,” Mat says, and then he holds open the driver’s seat door for Tito, because Mat, when he’s not being an impulsive mess with more talent than he knows what to do with, can occasionally be pretty smooth.

  
  


_ feb. 26, 2018 _

For some reason, Mat can tie a bow tie.

He’s a disaster who has managed to convince the world besides Tito that he’s a fashionable human being—enough that he was literally shooting photos for a fashion magazine earlier today—but he really just wears weirdly long coats and strange vaguely leatherish pants, yet he still, somehow, knows how to tie a bow tie.

“I hate that you’re doing this for me,” Tito says.

“Aw,” Mat says, smiling, not looking up from what he’s doing. “C’mon, man, I’m your husband, let me take care of you.”

“You can barely take care of yourself,” Tito says.

“I can do most of it, as long as you and Rebecca cook for me,” Mat says.

“You can’t get to the rink without your GPS,” Tito says. “Garden City isn’t hard to navigate.”

“That’s a fucking lie,” Mat says. “Anyway, maybe you can cook, but you don’t know how to tie a bow tie.”

“Yet you love me anyway,” Tito deadpans, and Mat freezes.

“I—uh—I mean—” Mat says.

“I didn’t mean—” Tito starts, but then he cuts himself off.

Okay, like, yes, they’re married, and yes, they’ve known each other for ages, but they haven’t actually gotten to the ‘I love you’ phase of things yet.

Tito’s aware that it’s probably silly, but it’s still a scary thing to say for the first time, alright?

“Sorry,” Mat says. “Let me start over.”

He gets to work tying the bow tie again, and Tito wishes it didn’t feel so awkward, but he’s definitely sweating, and would tug at his collar if Mat’s hands weren’t right there, causing the problem.

“I learned to do this back when I was, like, 17,” Mat says. “For prom.”

“The truth comes out,” Tito says.

“It’s a fun party trick,” Mat says. “I don’t get to bust it out that much.”

“I’m glad I could provide you with the opportunity to show off,” Tito says. “Not that you don’t already, but—”

“Hey,” Mat says, smiling a bit, which eases some of the tension.

 

Maybe it’s cheesy to watch your husband fix his bow tie in the mirror over his shoulder and think about how good he looks, but Tito’s gonna do it anyway, because Mat looks really good.

“We should wear tuxes more,” he says.

“We don’t really have anywhere to wear them,” Mat says. “We didn’t even wear tuxes to our own wedding.”

“And whose fault is that?” Tito says.

“Both of ours,” Mat says, not missing a beat, and then, apparently done messing with his tux for now, turns around. “Okay, how do I look?”

Tito takes his time answering that. It’s mostly so he can look Mat up and down slowly, which is a mutually beneficial move. Tito likes looking at Mat, Mat likes how much Tito likes looking at him—it’s a win-win, really.

“Like husband material,” he says after a second, because that’s safer than saying “I love you.”

Mat smiles. “Thanks,” he says. “You too.”

“Good thing we’re married, then,” Tito says.

“Yeah,” Mat says, not tearing his eyes away from Tito. “Good thing.”

 

They arrive at Casino Night together.

It’s not officially a date; they still haven’t told the guys about them, but they’ve been getting more and more suspicious, and, like, Mat and Tito don’t want to be found out, just because they’d prefer to tell the guys and not be caught. Which is all well and good, but they’ve been trying to be a little more subtle about things.

Still, there’s some stuff that’s unavoidable.

Like, Tito wants to hold Mat’s hand.

It’s something they do plenty, when they’re out to dinner or something and feel relatively anonymous, enough that they can be just another couple and not really themselves. It’s usually when they’re wearing the cheap rings they’d bought a week into dating, and it’s a little like playing house, acting like young husbands when they’re still filling out the nooks and crannies of this new version of them.

They haven’t really done that as much lately; these days, they mostly just hang out in a rediscovered kind of comfortable way. That’s what getting ready earlier had been like, and that’s a little bit like what this feels like, even though it’s not just the two of them in Tito’s apartment. But still, it feels natural, easy, walking side-by-side, clearly a package deal.

Two handsome young men. Sure on their feet, sure of each other, sure smiles pointed at the cameras.

Still, Tito wants to hold Mat’s hand, and he can’t, which doesn’t feel great.

Honestly, sneaking around has been a little more fun than Tito would like to admit, but the thrill is starting to wear off, or something. Mat’s his husband, and more importantly, his boyfriend, and it seems dumb that Mrs. Seidenberg had put together Mat’s basket when Tito probably could’ve done just as good a job. It’s not like Tito expects to be included in official WAG activities, but it’s the principle of the thing.

It’d just be nice if he got to actually be Mat’s boyfriend all the time, is all.

 

It’s still a fun night. The two of them look incredible together, and it’s always good to meet fans, and the jokes about the two of them being too young to be there are kind of annoying, but not relentless. It’s not like the drinking age actually applies to them, so it’s really all in good fun. Young guns, dressed up and entertaining rich people two or three times their age, who won’t ever really blame the players no matter how shitty the season gets. They all find Tito adorable, which, honestly, he kind of is.

“You’re a natural at this,” Mat says, when the fans are bidding on overpriced auction items and not trying to hold a conversation with any of them.

“I’m good with parents,” Tito says. “It’s kind of the same thing.”

Mat stares at Tito for a second, like he’s realizing something, and Tito’s starting to wonder what it is when Mat says, “You should meet my parents.”

“I’ve met your parents,” Tito says.

“I mean, like,  _ meet them  _ meet them,” Mat says. “Officially.”

“Oh,” Tito says. “Um, yeah, have you told them—”

“I was planning on it when I went home,” Mat says. “Not everything, just—the important stuff.”  _ About us,  _ Mat doesn’t say, but Tito hears it anyway.

Tito’s mostly just relieved they don’t have to explain the marriage part to their parents. He doesn’t know the Barzals super well, but even the most laid-back parents would probably not be thrilled to hear their son got drunk and married his best friend.

“I’ll try and be at my most charming,” Tito says.

“You’re always at your most charming,” Mat says, rolling his eyes. “I’m sure they’ll love you.”

“I hope so,” Tito says.

“They will,” Mat says, and then he glances at Tito, hesitates a second before he says, “I mean, I do.”

Tito’s world freezes, for a second; he glances around, and, like, they’re the farthest thing from alone, but no one’s listening to what they’re saying.

He really,  _ really  _ wants to grab Mat’s hand.

So, he does. It’s just for a second, to give him a gentle squeeze that is maybe too obvious, but Tito doesn’t really care right now.

“Love you too,” he says, his voice low, a gentle smile playing on his lips.

“Yo,” Mat says, his grin dumb and too-wide and totally perfect. “Lit.”

Tito lets out a laugh, loud enough that it’s probably a little rude, and he would be embarrassed by it if he were capable of embarrassment right now.

As it stands, though, he’s not, so he’s really just happy and in love, in this particular moment.

  
  


_ mar. 9, 2018 _

The thing about secrets: when you’ve been keeping them, and the time comes to stop keeping them, it’s, like, pretty awkward.

So, Mat and Tito very maturely decide to avoid any conversation, and instead just drop a message in the group chat then go on a helicopter ride over Banff.

“It’s pretty,” Tito says, except he has to scream to be heard over the noise. As it turns out, helicopters are really fucking loud.

“The scenery, or you?” Mat shouts back.

Tito laughs. “The scenery.”

“Yeah,” Mat says. “You too, though.”

“Oh my god, I’m literally going to push you out of this helicopter, you’re so fucking cheesy,” Tito says.

“Sorry,” Mat says, unapologetic. “If we weren’t already married, I’d probably propose right now, just so you know.”

“I don’t know if I’d be able to hear you,” Tito says.

“Love you,” Mat says, ungraceful and loud, yet still barely audible.

Tito doesn’t need to make out the words, though, can see them easily enough in Mat’s smile. “Love you too,” he says, pressing a quick peck to Mat’s cheek.

 

Ebs is the first of their teammates to confront them about it, as soon as they get back from their helicopter ride.

“Okay, so, first off, Ledds says he’s known for months.”

“Ledds is full of shit,” Tito says, automatic.

“It only started in January,” Mat adds.

“That’s what I assumed,” Ebs says. “Anyway, everyone says congratulations, and they’re placing bets on whether or not you’re gonna get married this weekend, and I put money against, so. Don’t do that.”

Tito and Mat exchange a glance, then both break down giggling.

Ebs straightens up, looking slightly concerned. “Guys?”

“Sorry,” Tito says, but it’s the only word he can really manage to get out before he’s laughing again.

“Wait, okay, we were just joking around,” Ebs says. “Please tell me you guys aren’t married.”

Tito laughs even harder, while Mat manages to sort himself out enough to say, “Don’t worry about it.”

“That’s not a no,” Jordan says. “Guys, I’m serious, what’s going on?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Tito tries to echo.

Mat rubs a hand up and down his back. “Come on, man—”

“Sorry, sorry,” Tito says, trying to collect himself. “Okay, I promise, we didn’t get married this weekend.”

“You sure about that, bud?” Ebs says.

“Absolutely,” Tito says.

“And we’re not going to,” Mat adds.

Ebs eyes them skeptically. “Alright,” he says. “You guys are really fucking weird, you know that?”

“Yeah,” Mat says, giving Tito a smile. “It works for us.”

Tito grins back. “For sure.”

  
  


(“I think it’s just you who’s really fucking weird,” Tito says.

“You’re the one who married a total weirdo, then,” Mat says.

Tito raises his eyebrows, then shrugs, like,  _ fair enough,  _ before pulling Mat in for a kiss. “I’m glad my husband’s weird.”

“I’m glad my boyfriend appreciates my weirdness,” Mat says.

And like, of course Tito appreciates Mat’s weirdness, because if he weren’t a ridiculous person, they wouldn’t be married, and wouldn’t be dating, and wouldn’t be naked in a hotel room and tangled up without a care in the world right now.

Mat’s got a lot of crazy ideas, but they tend to work out well for Tito, so he’s happy to go along with pretty much anything.)

 


	2. Podfic

 

**Length**  32:35

**Size**  30MB 

**[[download link]](http://www.mediafire.com/file/80k1mzd3j1q2lgz/%5Bhockey_rpf%5D_this_spaceship_has_a_passenger_seat.mp3) **

 

The music featured on this podfic is [this cover of "U Smile"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gdysPsl8jeo) by GraceSings.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm lottswrites on tumblr and lottslottslotts on twitter!


End file.
